The Shift of Dusk to Dawn
by AliceUnknown
Summary: She was always the one to fall asleep first, leaving him to watch over her… Part 1/2


**Title:** The Shift of Dusk to Dawn

**Fandom:** Soul Eater

**Pairing:** Soul+Maka

**Rating:** K+

**Status:** In Progress- Part 1 of 2

**Word Count:** 779 (pretty short)

**Summary:** She was always the one to fall asleep first, leaving him to watch over her...

A/N: Homework? Meh.

…Night...

Her capacity to stay awake was that of a little kid's. Unless, of course, she had to pull an all night-er studying. She was a firm believer in sleep improving performance, though, so she hardly ever made it past eleven sharp.

He had always been in the next room over, staying up far past the early hours of morning, sometimes not even sleeping a wink. He occupied himself with music, old _Family Matters_ re-runs, and whatever else peaked his interest at two a.m. He was sort of an insomniac- he could lie in bed as long as he pleased, but his body wouldn't be able to keep still. Oftentimes, he wound up pacing throughout the house, weaving through the kitchen and living room, and then back to his own room, where he'd probably begin the cycle again. This wasn't all the time, though. Occasionally, during especially exhausting days jam-packed with missions, or when just on mission required taking an airplane, and he later suffered from jet-leg, he'd pass out before ten thirty. It was still pretty rare.

There came a certain point in time when Soul realized that the walls in his apartment were really quite thin. This discovery was provoked one night when he could entertain himself with nothing else, and lay down in bed, hoping that sleep would come soon. After about two minutes of twisting and turning, his comforter contorting with each shift, he chanted quietly to himself to _keep still_, or else sleep wouldn't come until the last possible minute.

Every noise in the room, and even in the whole apartment space, registered to his sensitive ears. The monotonous and precise ticking of the cuckoo-clock in the dining room; the distant, subtle hoot of an owl from far off; Blair's steady purrs outside his door; and lastly, a soft noise coming from the other side of his wall. If Soul focused on this noise, he could pick out the intricacies of it- airy and light, gentle. It had a soothing sensation to it that made Soul feel as if, inside, he was carefully being rocked to sleep...

When he woke up, completely rested, Soul couldn't recall when he fell asleep, but he remembered the soft noise that came from the other side of the wall. When he wasn't being swayed by the effects of drowsiness, he was able to conclude that only one thing that fit the description came from _Maka's room._

…

Now, the noise wasn't so faint and distant as it had been the first time. Now, he could let the sound of Maka's breathing consume him in the late hours of night as she lay beside him. He could see the rhythmic rise-and-fall of her body, the tiny trickle of drool on the corner of her mouth, the way her hair was spread out, loose, around her neck and how strands of it swirled on the bedsheets. Her eyes had fluttered shut a while ago- Soul hadn't any idea how much time had passed since then- and her mind was somewhere far off, leaving him to watch her entity exist in this moment.

He dared not wake her up, but could not help to imagine his hands treading over her lightly flushed cheeks, over her lips, down her neck and to her collarbone. He wished to draw closer to her, so that the warmth of her breath, and the rest of her, may warm him, even if he hadn't been too cold to begin with. The exposed flesh of her breasts, partially covered by a blanket, was added to the list of Parts of Maka He Wished to Touch. She was so soft. Her skin was somewhat pale, but rosy in prettiest places. He wanted to trace the outline of her figure with his rough hands, but she looked so delicate sleeping there beside him.

Soul's hand reached out anyways on it's own accord. He wanted to know what that delicate texture would feel like in his fingertips. His hands maneuvered first to the back of her ear, gently brushing away small strands of hair and stroking his thumb around the smooth edges of it. It made its way down the outline of her jaw, up to the set of perfect lips that were slightly parted. They were fragile to touch, but enchanting.

They twitched.

Soul carefully removed his finger from her face as Maka licked her lips, eyes still closed. "S-Soul?" she whispered, barely audible. "What are...?"

"It's nothing, Maka. Go back to sleep," he cooed, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. Within a minute, the steady rhythm of her sleeping breath returned.

...


End file.
